


The Curse Ruled From The Underground

by thegrumblingirl



Series: Why Don't You Save Me? (1 Million Celebration) [4]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Character Study, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Comfort, Corvo only wants to be a good partner, Daud is chronically ill and in pain, Emotional Conversations, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Corvo Attano, Relationship Negotiation, no plot only feelings, post-Brigmore Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-30 03:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrumblingirl/pseuds/thegrumblingirl
Summary: The sun over the Wrenhaven had long since set, making way for the moon and what stars were still visible this close to the heart of the city. Whale oil had brought with it ever-burning lights; on the streets and bridges even after the imperial decree. Corvo carefully stayed out of the floodlights as he traversed the length of Rudshore Gate.





	The Curse Ruled From The Underground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Punchlines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punchlines/gifts).

> To celebrate posting 1 MILLION words on this here AO3, I [gave away ten request slots](https://screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse.tumblr.com/post/187537485520/grumbles-1-million-give-away) (all gone now). It's been a minute since #3 — it's been a busy couple weeks, but here's Part 4!
> 
> Soundtrack: [The Curse by Agnes Obel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6h9XUYj96ho).

The sun over the Wrenhaven had long since set, making way for the moon and what stars were still visible this close to the heart of the city. Whale oil had brought with it ever-burning lights; on the streets and bridges even after the imperial decree. Corvo carefully stayed out of the floodlights as he traversed the length of Rudshore Gate.

He had taken a detour through the Flooded District, to check on the Whalers that had remained there after their return from Brigmore. That chaos… Corvo and Daud had barely escaped with their lives, albeit Daud with a nasty enough wound, brought by one of the Bloodbriars Delilah had sent shooting up out of the ground. Damned things, but easy enough to turn to ash, Corvo had found, and had been glad for the incendiary bolts and bullets Piero had practically forced on him before they’d left. After, he’d wondered whether the scientist might have had another one of his fevered dreams that night.

Daud had been near impossible, refusing any and all treatment beyond having the wound cleaned and stitched and dressed; and Hypatia had clucked her tongue at him before he’d subdued and agreed to see her again in a week. Corvo had watched, concerned and trying not to hover; and later he’d taken Daud’s face in his hands and kissed him softly. Gratitude, love, and caring all flowed through the air they shared, and when he pulled away, Daud seemed to understand. He tucked his head underneath Corvo’s chin and let himself be arranged into an embrace, Corvo’s fingers carding through the hair at the back of his neck, the other hand between Daud’s shoulder blades, feeling the tension bleed out of him slowly.

They’d done it. Delilah was gone, and Emily was safe. And they were alive. Together. Daud’s grip on Corvo’s waist tightened.

“Emily’s going to be awake soon,” Corvo said. “I can tell her you needed rest.”

“No,” Daud rumbled. “I’d like to see her.”

Corvo swallowed his concern. Daud did not respond to worry well. The thought barely complete, someone knocked at the door; and before Corvo could bid them enter (or relinquish his hold on Daud, for secrecy’s sake), it flew open.

“Emily!” Callista scolded in her wake.

“Corvo! Daud!” Emily came bounding inside, her eyes fixed on them and naught on her face but delight. When she came closer and realised the way they stood, she slowed, and when she was near enough, she reached out to gently touch Daud’s elbow. “Are you alright?” she asked, more quietly. “Were you scared?”

Muscle and sinew coiled under Corvo’s touch, and Daud withdrew his head from Corvo’s chest as one did from their pillow in the mornings, with a numb sort of heaviness. He blinked, once, twice, and then stepped away, out of Corvo’s embrace. It had been freely given, and now Corvo missed his warmth already. Daud turned to Emily, bending down only by degrees to keep pressure off the wound under his ribs, and smiled — thin, but genuine.

“Everyone should fear witches,” he answered lowly. “But with Corvo there with me, I felt safe enough.”

Corvo’s heart did something that might have been fluttering. Daud’s voice, rough as gravel, and his face, torn by that scar, did not mark him delicate by any stretch of the imagination. And yet here, with one of many children under his care — this one the _Empress_ and still, nonetheless, a child — gentleness came so easily to him. Corvo felt humbled. It was all he needed to know he loved this man beyond comprehension.

Daud straightened when Emily rushed to hug him, and while she couldn’t see, Corvo hooked a few fingers under the collar of Daud’s coat, tugged, and brushed his knuckles against Daud’s skin underneath. Daud rolled his neck, turned his head and gave him a quick glance, his eyes tired and yet electrified by the liberty taken.

Council meetings and sessions took Emily and Corvo away soon after, and Corvo did his best to compel Daud to rest while they were gone.

“Take the bed,” he murmured. He did not yet dare to say that it was Daud’s, too, now; after his words in the Void. Daud had been ready to let go, to sacrifice himself — all for loving Corvo. And for Corvo’s interference, lunging forward and dragging Daud out of Delilah’s grip, the Void tearing at all three of them, he had been furious, until Corvo had grasped his face and kissed him.

Something like longing lanced through Daud’s gaze, exhaustion slowly settling in his bones; exhaustion that would dog Corvo all day. But still, Daud shook his head.

“I have to see to the others,” he said lowly, not wanting Emily to think any of the Whalers had been hurt. “For my own peace of mind.”

“Alright.” Corvo paused. “Come back tonight?”

Daud pursed his lips just for an instant before pulling back; and weighed his head. “Tomorrow. Things… have been left unattended.”

Corvo nodded — he understood. Billie leaving had opened a void that even Thomas, eager and dedicated and capable, had been struggling to fill.

“See you tomorrow, then,” he said, and over Emily’s head leaned in to steal a quick, chaste kiss.

Daud’s eyes darted down, then across the room, but Emily was still hiding in his coat and Callista had a maid’s practised air in not paying attention to what was going on around her.

“Yes,” he rasped, and tapped Emily’s shoulder. “Time to go, kid.”

Reluctantly, Emily let him go, and then reached up for Corvo to lift her, who hoisted her up on his hip. It was a favour more than necessity, and soon Emily would be too tall even for Corvo to carry her with ease.

“Do we really have to go to that meeting?” she asked. “You still have soot on your coat!”

Corvo shifted her a little and started walking towards the door, collecting Callista on the way.

“Can’t be helped,” he said, then looked back at Daud, who now stood leaning against Corvo’s desk, watching them leave. A soft smirk lingered on his lips, but Corvo saw the pinch in the lines at his eyes. “We can rest tonight,” he said to Emily — hoping Daud would take it to heart, too.

And now, Corvo was on the way from Rudshore towards the Tower. Galia had told him that Daud had left just minutes before he arrived, but that he’d wanted to see Slackjaw before heading to the Tower himself. So Corvo had kept his visit brief, hoping not to leave Daud waiting too long, provided he did not end up in another shouting match with Slackjaw — but then, someone from the Bottle Street Gang was sure to hoist a flag calling for help. Either that, or he’d hear the screaming across the River. It wasn’t that Daud and Slackjaw disagreed on principle, but rather in method. They quite respected each other, but seemed to enjoy yelling at one another far too much; no matter the strain on Corvo’s nerves.

Corvo passed the drawbridge between the Tower grounds and Coldridge on the other side down the river, keeping a weather eye out for that red coat. Daud still liked to take the water lock route to make his way into the Tower, and it was most easily done through Coldridge without getting one’s feet wet. He was about to give up and conclude that Daud would be waiting for him in his office, smug and impatient and ready to point out Corvo’s many shortcomings and call it flirting, when he did spot him: he was on the water lock, on one of the building platforms and aiming up. Corvo would have called out, or simply followed to join him, if not for what happened next: Daud transversed — and nearly missed the ledge he was making for. He caught himself at the last moment, and then heaved himself up. Corvo adjusted the lenses in his mask, zooming closer, and once he could make out more, he realised how badly Daud was struggling. His arms were shaking from the strain, and when he managed to pull himself over the edge of the roof, he went down hard. Corvo could see him close his eyes and breathe in deeply.

He stayed like this for a few moments before dropping his shoulders and starting to walk. As he moved, Corvo could perceive him limping. He looked so weary, and in a great amount of pain. He kept walking, too, instead of transversing quickly as was his wont, a habit picked up with greater familiarity with the Void inside him. Corvo tracked him as far as he could, and then retracted his lenses, leaving himself confused and worried.

Was this because of the wounds Daud had sustained at Brigmore? Daud had assured him that they were healing well. Ordinarily, Corvo would not have believed that such an injury would have slowed Daud down this much, but this... he dithered for a moment, uncertain whether to force the conversation when he arrived, but then cast doubt aside. They had finally had that _talk_ and had admitted various badly-concealed truths. Together, they had decided to do their best to make something of what they had, and Daud spent more nights at the Tower now than not. If Corvo wanted to prove that they could, he could not let this pass.

*

When Corvo entered his office, Daud was indeed already there, halfway out of his restricting clothing. It was a privilege Corvo only realised now: to see Daud relinquish the burdens of the day, starting with the heavy leather gloves. Seeing Daud’s bare hands was something that still sent a frisson through Corvo, especially now that it was _not_ relegated only to when they were undressing to meet in a desperate encounter each thought would be the last. He was even happier that Daud was comfortable in taking the liberty (and it really was no liberty at all) of undressing while Corvo was absent. Daud barely turned, but Corvo thought he could see how he pulled himself up straighter just a touch too late, deliberately. Did he not want him to see?

“There you are,” Daud rumbled, and he sounded pleased enough. “How was patrol?”

“Uneventful,” Corvo answered as he walked closer, taking in the line of Daud back, following the movement of muscle underneath the fabric of his shirt, from his lower back to his shoulders and his neck. “The usual brawls between the Hatters and the Watch, the Hatters and the Eels—”

“The Hatters and common sense,” Daud fairly snorted as he sat on a chair by the dresser to pull off his boots, snapping open the buckles.

Corvo smiled, but levity was lost when he saw that Daud’s fingers were trembling, before he quickly balled them into fists to hide it. Corvo looked up and found Daud watching as he watched him.

“You just going to stand there?” Daud asked roughly.

Corvo hesitated, but then resolved to face this head on. “Are you hurt?” he asked, hoping it would remove some of the sting from the observation of being caught. “Is the wound still bothering you?”

“The wound is healing fine, I told you,” Daud dismissed the question summarily. He returned to taking off his boots.

“Your hands—”

“It’s fuck-all cold outside, Corvo,” Daud interrupted him. “High Cold has to be even more merciless on this wet rock than in the crystal depths of Tyvia.”

Corvo fought to keep his expression neutral — but he knew what Daud was like when he was evading a question, or a subject entire. “I saw you,” he confessed. “At the water lock. I was behind you on the bridge.”

Daud’s brow darkened. “I won’t accuse you of being nosy, Lord _Spymaster_, but that raises the question of what you were doing watching me.”

“I was not ‘watching you,’” Corvo told him evenly. “Fleet told me you’d just left, and I thought I might catch up with you.” He paused, and added, “I didn’t want to keep you waiting alone for too long.”

Daud’s stark expression softened, perhaps against his will and better judgement, if only by a margin. “I’m fine,” he said, kicking the boots underneath the chair by his heels. Corvo recognised the disparity between them even as he argued: with Daud dressing down and himself still fully clothed. He responded by unbuttoning his coat.

“You could barely stand,” he still continued.

Daud huffed, using the pretence of getting to work on his vest to avoid Corvo’s gaze.

“Daud, I… I’m worried, that’s all.”

“And so I owe you?” Daud bit out — a familiar device when faced with Corvo working his way past the defences he had built so diligently. So many of them had failed to keep Corvo out in the past year.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Corvo returned. “I merely wish to help you, if I can. I’m your… partner,” he settled on. “And if you are hurt, or sick, I would want to be allowed to care for you.”

He could see the muscle ticking in Daud’s jaw, and the tension he held in his shoulders, his arms, even his hands. His fingers were stiff where they had halted on the buttons. Slowly, Corvo removed his own coat and weapons belt; and then stepped closer to where Daud was sitting. Daud responded by canting his head, but did not look up. Now more than ever, he reminded Corvo of an alert, trapped wolfhound. Caged, by his own body. But he let Corvo reach him, and let him set a hand on his shoulder.

“Will you tell me?”

Daud’s hands dropped into his lap, and he released a long breath.

“I’m sick,” he said. Corvo presently wrestled with abject panic at the words, like a knife to the base of the spine, but did not interrupt. “Always have been, since I was little. The flare-ups would be worse in winter, even in Karnaca. My joints would ache and my muscles seize, and some days I would not even be able to get out of bed for the pain of it. My mother made me elixirs and poultices, until — well. I know how to make them, but the ingredients are harder to come by here. And I didn’t want to wind up craving poppy.”

Corvo reeled — had Daud ever — in all the months they’d known each other, trained and worked and practically lived together, he had never… how could he not have seen?

“The training helped, made me stronger, more resilient. Raised my tolerance for pain until I could barely feel it on some days. I got good at hiding it. Anticipating the worst of it and shutting myself away. When—when Billie was old enough, I could even leave for a day or two, on a job, and leave the business to her. Even she did not see it until she was nearly twenty. And past that, she kept my secret.”

“You hid it from the Whalers all this time?” Corvo asked, not quite managing to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

Daud tensed under his hand. “Do you really believe a bunch of mercs and thieves let you live after they find out their supposed leader can end up bedridden and immobile one night to morning?” He did not look up, nor did he stand to pace away, as Corvo _knew_ he would have done under better circumstances.

“The Whalers love you,” Corvo answered quietly.

“The Whalers as you know them. Two dozen frightened children who had nowhere to go more than they cared enough about this entire mess not to leave. The rest… they would have cut my throat without a second thought. Never mind Dunwall’s nobles smelling an opportunity.”

Corvo chewed his lip. “Why didn’t you tell me? No matter when.”

For a moment, Daud leaned into his touch. “I’m tired, Corvo. Can this wait?”

Even as he felt disappointment at not knowing, Corvo knew it would never do either of them any good to push. “I’m sorry, you’re right. We should both get some sleep.” He did his best not to watch too closely as they readied themselves for bed. He could not keep from asking, however, was there anything he might do to ease Daud’s aches.

Daud shook his head. “I’ll be fine in the morning.” The stiffness in his movements seemed to belie his confidence, but Corvo did not want to spark an argument this late at night for the servants to hear; and not when they should both be resting, Daud moreso.

They went to bed, and Corvo did nothing to curb a small sigh of relief when Daud curled into his side as he always did. Corvo was cautious in wrapping himself around him, but Daud grunted and nudged him, so he draped arm arm around his waist and moulded himself into the spaces Daud had left for him.

*

The next morning, Corvo woke early — not on account of the alarm but the bed jostling.

“Daud?” he asked, only half-awake.

“Go back to sleep,” Daud rumbled from the edge of the bed. Corvo would have taken him up on it any other day, but today Daud sounded even more gravelly than usual. He fought to open his eyes and watched as Daud leveraged himself up to standing, and then started towards the bathroom. He was limping.

“Daud.”

Daud stopped, and turned. Corvo could not see his face very well in the half-light.

“Do you need anything?” Corvo asked. As much as he wanted to say, it could wait.

Daud shook his head and walked away, leaving Corvo alone with his circling thoughts. He might have expected that Daud would try to hide his limp from him by getting up so early and showering before he woke. Going by how Daud had reacted the day before, he understood. It could have hardly been easy, surrounded by ambition and opportunism, to project unfailing strength. Corvo knew that many of the Novices and Masters looked to Daud for safety, as they thought of him as invincible. But those were the ones who had stayed, as Daud himself had reminded him. The rest… had thought him too tough to kill to take over the Whalers before this year. Lurk had known. And even though she had betrayed Daud, this one secret she had kept — what might Delilah have done to Daud otherwise, Corvo hardly dared to wonder. He listened to the sounds of the bath and Daud performing his morning ablutions. He settled on two things he wanted to ask, if Daud had the patience and the strength to discuss this when he returned.

*

When Daud reappeared and crawled back under the covers, owing both to the early hour and the fact that Corvo was demonstratively awake, Corvo kissed him softly, which Daud allowed, and then posed a preliminary question: “Do you feel like talking?”

“Might as well,” Daud said. He still sounded tired, but not as exhausted as the night before.

“We don’t have to if—”

“Corvo,” Daud said simply — not unkindly, but bluntly, a direct order to speak his mind.

“Alright.” Corvo took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Would you have told me?”

Daud was quiet for so long Corvo thought he might not answer. But he was content to wait him out.

“You would have wanted me to,” Daud said, and sounded as thought he had only just arrived at that conclusion.

“Yes,” Corvo said, and bit back the ‘of course’ that lay on the tip of his tongue.

“Why?” Daud returned — completely disarming him. He abruptly understood that truly none of this was _obvious_ to Daud.

He sat up a little. “You are my — my ally, my friend, my lover—”

“Don’t forget your hunter and your enemy,” Daud grated, and Corvo nearly hushed him.

“— and I am yours,” Corvo emphasised. “Yes, it would have paid to know this when we started this, or when we fought the Conspiracy together, or when you came to warn us. But most of all I care for you, and I want to know your needs.”

“You could argue, as my ‘partner,’ you _deserve_ to know,” Daud said quietly.

“Perhaps I do, if we continue to live and work together. But I appreciate your privacy, and your wish to protect it. I am no exception. And… I would like to understand _why_. And how.”

“How?”

“How did you expect to hide this from me? Forgive me for being glib, but we share a bed.”

“Able-bodied people so very often only see what they want. What falls outside of that is too great a burden,” Daud returned. There was bitterness in it, earned and hardened.

“A burden,” Corvo echoed.

“I don’t want anyone’s pity, nor patronisation. And I didn’t want—” Daud stopped himself. He sighed. “There were enough reasons for you to realise we ought not to be doing this to begin with. I did not mean to add to them.”

“Add to—”

“You were going to come to your senses eventually. I had no wish for this to be the key.”

Corvo was, in a word, speechless.

“I had it under control. It’s only with the recent… increase in ground to be covered, it’s been harder. I did not expect the flare-up now. I overdid it, and didn’t realise.”

“And still you came here.”

“If you hadn’t seen me at the water lock, if you had arrived just five minutes later, I would have had a handle on it. Blamed any morning stiffness on Brigmore once it was safe enough to do so, and you would have been none the wiser. I just needed a night’s rest,” Daud said, and Corvo could not help but note he made no mention of seeking comfort.

Corvo took a deep breath.

“You thought I would leave you. Because of this. Not just eventually. But if you told me this.”

“Corvo—“

“Have I not been clear enough?” Corvo asked, careful not to sound accusing. Still, Daud bristled, and Corvo reminded himself this could not be made about _him_. “I’m sorry. What I mean is — have I given you cause to doubt? Is there something lacking—”

“Corvo.” Daud’s tone was final. “I do trust you. But I am not accustomed to trusting anyone with _this_. For decades it would have meant my death. And now you waltz in and you… you tell me I’m worth the trouble.” Daud seemed tempted to scoff. “Forgive a man for being wary.”

Corvo reached over and took Daud’s hand. “I want you to lean on me. Always.”

He did not bring up the nights Daud helped him when he had that dream in the Void, the one that kept returning. He did not mention how Daud had so readily taken over caring for Emily when Corvo needed a moment alone before facing a new day guarding his daughter as she led the Empire out of the crisis her mother had died trying to prevent. Daud let Corvo lean on him, and he never asked to be thanked. Nor would Corvo — it required no gratitude, same as Daud required no pity. What he did deserve, however, was to be held when he needed it, to never fear falling when he stumbled. Corvo’s regard for him had not changed — he was still the same strong, stubborn man he’d always been. And Corvo loved him.

“I cannot be a burden on Emily’s reign,” Daud said, but with a softening in his voice that told Corvo his defence was waning. “I do not want your misery, but neither do I want to invite your scorn.”

“You never will,” Corvo promised.

Daud sighed. Gently, he squeezed Corvo’s hand and then threaded their fingers together.

“I’d rather you didn’t tell anyone,” he said quietly. “Especially not Emily. I don’t want her to worry.”

“Of course. But on your head be it when she finds out at fifteen to hound you.”

“And I’m still going to pull my weight,” Daud sidestepped Corvo’s attempt at humour. “Don’t try to dissuade me from going on patrol.”

Corvo nodded. “Promise me, though, that you’ll remember there’s no shame in needing rest and taking it. If you say you’re ready to go out, I’ll never doubt you. If you do realise you’ve overdone it, just come to me.”

“Alright,” Daud agreed, then gave him an earnest look. “I’ll do my best, Corvo.”

“You have nothing to prove to me,” Corvo sought to reassure him. “I know who you are.”

*

Daud was feeling better after taking it slow for a few days, under the guise of helping Corvo at the Tower. The Whalers had been getting used to seeing less of him, and hardly minded he was spending more time with Corvo after finally acting on what they had seen plain for months.

Corvo had just returned to his quarters, nudged some reports around on his desk with a cautious fingertip, and kissed Daud’s cheek in greeting, when Daud cleared his throat.

“I’ve made an appointment to see Hypatia. She has agreed to keep it quiet.” He folded over another section of the _Courier_.

Corvo bent down again to press another kiss to Daud’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Daud grunted. “That’s what I get for falling in love with a stubborn fool.”

Corvo grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> the prompt: "Corvo figures out Daud suffers from chronic pain after seeing him struggle to pull himself up a building when he thought no one was looking and getting Daud to agree to ask for help if he needs it"


End file.
